


A Totally Platonic Date

by orphan_account



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 1x02, Cut Man - Freeform, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Strong his arm and keen his scent is He's a pirate now indeed!” He half-belted half-screeched, aiming for the high note at the end before-</p><p>“Oh, you know I’m still here, right?”<br/>--------------------</p><p>OR: What was going through Foggy's mind when he asked Karen to go bar-hopping with him during "Cut Man."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Totally Platonic Date

**Author's Note:**

> My writing can be a little rough, so feel free to leave constructive criticism in the comments. Also, all the lines I borrowed from the show aren't mine (obviously), I'm just playing with them.

Foggy was used to staying late at the office.

There was paperwork to be filled out and a lack of clients to be anxious over, so why wouldn’t he be there?

To be honest, though, those reasons were lies. He had finished all paperwork due anytime soon earlier in the day, his schedule unimpeded by the monsoon of customers they didn’t have, and, honestly, he could be anxious about said lack of customers anywhere. The truth? He just didn’t want to go home.

Well, not that his apartment necessarily felt like a home. It was a place where his stuff and his bed were, but that didn’t make it home. Foggy wasn’t used to living alone, he’d always lived with his family or a roommate or two, or Matt. And, to think of it, his apartment hadn’t felt like home since Matt moved out. It was too quiet, too big, too cold. Foggy had considered trying to get another roommate, if only for company, but his last attempt since Matt (a guy with a strange obsession with anime girls, or more specifically their breasts) had made him decide against doing so. This meant that at the end of the day Foggy would go home to his hollow apartment that made him feel hollow inside. Well, except for the nights that Foggy would spend at the office, a place that despite being in a neighborhood a bit worse than his apartment (though not by much) felt safer. It felt like Matt and Karen, so if home was where the heart is then this place, the office they shared, was home.

Unfortunately, this didn’t mean Foggy could spend the night there. He began to gather his things, and, by force of habit, Foggy also began to sing. What? He used to do choir and his mom had loved show tunes. This may or may not have meant that Foggy had a Spotify playlist of his favorite songs from Broadway that he’d put on full blast and belt poorly along with. He didn’t even think twice about breaking out into song, after all, no one was there to complain, right?

“ _Pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry_  
_Fill, oh, fill the pirate glass,_  
_And to make us more than merry_  
_Let the pirate bumper pass,_ ” he sang, shoving things into his bag with only limited care given to how they were thrown in.

“ _For today our pirate 'prentice rises from indenture freed_ ,” He continued, voice going higher as he moved around his office.

“ _Strong his arm and keen his scent is He's a pirate now indeed!_ ” He half-belted half-screeched, aiming for the high note at the end before-

“Oh, you know I’m still here, right?” A voice said from the other side of the office, causing him to bump into his desk in surprise, knocking an old coffee mug off of it. Damn, he thought, There goes my no-one-to-complain theory. He tried to keep from appearing embarrassed as he speed-walked to the door of his office. He was sure he looked either mortified or scared despite his efforts when he flung it open.

“Could you… could you hear me just now?” He asked, already knowing the answer and trying to control the flustered pitch of his voice.

Karen’s smile widened, and she glanced away while putting a strand of hair behind her ear, trying and failing to conceal her amusement by the whole situation. “Nope.” Foggy let out a string of curse words in his head before his awkward embarrassment from the situation triggered his humor reflexes.

“The correct answer is, ‘Yes, and you sound amazing,’” He said with conviction.

“Well, of the two lies I took the lesser,” she joked, her eyebrows scrunching together in false seriousness. Foggy tried his best to keep from noticing how cute she looked. His best was not good enough.

“I thought you went home. What are you still doing here?”

“Uh... I could ask you the same.” She said a bit quickly, but not so fast that she sounded uncomfortable.

“Yes, but I am a partner at a prestigious law firm with very important documents needing to be documented so we can start generating some revenue,” he reasoned, “While you are…” he stopped himself, trying his best to think of something to salvage his argument in a way that didn’t sound offensive. “Also very integral in your own special, manager…” Foggy sighed in defeat. “I dug myself in too deep and I can't climb out.”

“You need a hand with that?” She offered.

“Please.”

“Oh! Not gonna happen.”

“Seriously, what are you still doing here?” He asked again, wondering in the back of his head why anyone would still be at work at such a late hour. He then remembered he had been doing the same thing.

“I have work to do.”

“What work?” he said, voice filled with disbelief, “We don't have any clients yet.”

“Well, your shit's not gonna unpack itself.”

“This box of vital import will be here in the morning.” He promised, hitting the box lightly for emphasis. “You should be out having a life, doing poppers and flapper dancing... I don't know what kids do these days.” He finished, humor lightening his words.

“We're the same age, Foggy.” Karen laughed.

“So you're saying I shouldn't be here, either?” He said, realizing she was probably right as the thought occurred to him.

“Yeah.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “But I'm awkward and unfashionable, those things don't seem to apply to you,” he said earnestly, voice dipping slightly at the end.

Karen took a deep breath, as if trying to contemplate how to respond to him. “I just don't feel like going home... okay?” Foggy nodded sympathetically.

“Well, we can't stay here. Not enough money in the kitty to keep the lights on past midnight. So let's hop a few bars, not think about it.” He offered, because just because neither one of them wanted to go home seemed like a good reason not to be alone. Karen was beautiful and intelligent and definitely someone he would love to take out on a non-platonic date, but he didn’t think he had much of a chance. A bit of him might have been a tiny bit disappointed, but he knew that he would be perfectly happy to just sit beside her with a drink or two and talk. He enjoyed being around her in general, and he wasn’t the kind of person to force things like that.

Karen bit her lip in a way that was too adorable to be ignored, a way that gave Foggy the kind of butterflies in his stomach he probably shouldn’t have for a friend.

“Yes. Big fan of the not thinking.” She said cheerfully and maybe just a little relieved as she moved to grab her bag

“You will fit right in here.” He said as he shifted to fall in step beside her as they walked towards the door of their small, decrepit office.

“Should we call Matt?” Karen asked, and Foggy figured what the hell, why not? After all, he didn’t think there was anyone else he would rather be around than his best friend and the girl he was trying not to fall in love with, despite the fact that he already thought of her as sunshine personified.

“Sure. Yeah, let's see what he's up to.”


End file.
